The young man walked slowly to Zhao Chengyun. He first bowed deeply, then spoke in a low voice: “Third Imperial Brother.”
The youth’s low voice and humble movements made Luo Xing feel as if they weren’t brothers at all, but rather master and servant…
Moreover, he noticed that when this so-called Eighth Prince, Zhao Chengzhou, bowed to Zhao Chengyun, the other’s gaze had quickly swept over him…
Though brief, he could feel it.
“Mm, my Imperial Brother need not stand on ceremony.” Zhao Chengyun gave a slight nod, then introduced Luo Xing to him. “This is a cultivator from the Xuantian Sect, Cultivator Luo.”
Zhao Chengzhou then bowed to Luo Xing, acting as if it were the first time he’d seen him.
But Luo Xing hadn’t forgotten that day in the palace. This young man had clearly seen him then and even briefly caught his eye.
Was it an act?
Or…
“Ahem… my Imperial Brother…” Zhao Chengyun continued, “Cultivator Luo’s journey here is to get to know our Tianyan Royal Family. We’d like to sit inside for a bit. You don’t mind, do you?”
Luo Xing: ‘Isn’t that reason a bit too flimsy?’
Zhao Chengyun: ‘Ah! I’ll just find any excuse to go in and take a look!’
Hearing this, Zhao Chengzhou’s face remained neutral. He slowly took a step back, yielding the way. “Cultivator Luo, Imperial Brother, please.”
***
It was only after entering the Moonfall Palace that Luo Xing truly saw it.
This place was a real cold palace!
Overgrown with weeds, crumbling walls and broken rafters. A desolate, gloomy aura assaulted his senses. He didn’t even need to use his [Scent] skill to feel the thick, suffocating air of death.
“Hey…” Taking advantage of Zhao Chengzhou leading the way ahead, Luo Xing asked Zhao Chengyun beside him, “What’s the deal with your Imperial Brother? Got banished to the cold palace?”
Zhao Chengyun glanced at Zhao Chengzhou ahead, then lowered his voice to Luo Xing. “Cultivator Luo, the matter is this…”
After a brief explanation, Luo Xing learned that Zhao Chengzhou’s birth mother was called Consort Jin. Years ago, she was implicated in a plot to murder the Empress and was sent to the cold palace.
At the time, Zhao Chengzhou was still an infant in swaddling clothes, so he was implicated as well and confined here for nearly eighteen years. This had made him reclusive and taciturn in temperament and all other aspects.
Hearing this, Luo Xing gave a huge mental eye roll.
‘Another one of those bloody harem dramas…’
‘Consort Jin is nine times out of ten innocent…’
Why was he so sure?
Hmph…
‘Standard imperial palace procedure…’
But Luo Xing didn’t want to get involved in someone else’s family affairs. After all, his only purpose this time was to figure out who was secretly kidnapping people with spiritual roots within the Tianyan Kingdom.
As for harem politics and all that…
Just thinking about it was annoying. He couldn’t be bothered to care.
Creak~
Zhao Chengzhou pushed open the old wooden door. A heavy smell of medicine and musty dampness assaulted Luo Xing’s nostrils, making him, who was accustomed to the scent of spiritual energy, frown involuntarily.
Living in a place like this, even if you didn’t get sick, you’d end up fostering an illness, right?
Luo Xing stepped closer to the room. It was broad daylight outside, but inside it was terrifyingly dark. Only a few thin, pale rays of sunlight pierced through the broken windows. Dust swirled, clearly visible in the light. These few faint glimmers were all that defined the room’s vague outline.
The furniture was already battered and beyond repair. The only thing that could be considered somewhat intact was the wooden bed draped with grey-black gauze curtains.
“Cough, cough…”
Before Luo Xing could get closer, a violent fit of coughing suddenly erupted…
“Mother!” Zhao Chengzhou quickly walked to the bedside and lifted the gauze curtain. “Mother? How are you?”
Luo Xing looked up and saw a woman lying on the bed.
Her hair was dry and disheveled. Her cheeks were sunken, her cheekbones prominent. Her eye sockets were hollow. The eyelids she struggled to open were filled with endless exhaustion.
“Zhou’er…” Consort Jin swallowed, her dry, cracked lips seeming to tear. “Who… who is here…”
“Third Imperial Brother…” Zhao Chengzhou said first, then looked at Luo Xing. “And a cultivator from the Xuantian Sect.”
Upon hearing it was a cultivator, Consort Jin’s eyes shot wide open, and she struggled to sit up. “Cultivator… cough cough cough… Cultivator… Zhou’er… hurry… help me up…”
“Mother…”
“There’s no need.” Luo Xing finally couldn’t help but speak. “I’m just here to have a look. You don’t need to bow.”
“Th… thank you, Cultivator…” Consort Jin gasped and lay back down. “This… this concubine is gravely ill… can’t… cough… can’t conveniently bow… please, Cultivator, forgive… forgive this transgression…”
Just for being inconvenienced to bow, she had to ask for forgiveness?
Luo Xing couldn’t help but contemplate the weight of those four words in his heart: “The immortal and the mortal are different.”
After calming Consort Jin down, Zhao Chengzhou stood up and addressed Luo Xing and Zhao Chengyun: “Please, Imperial Brother, Cultivator, wait a moment. I’ll go prepare some tea…”
Once Zhao Chengzhou had left, Luo Xing first glanced at Consort Jin lying on the bed, then said to Zhao Chengyun: “Wait… after being sent to the cold palace, there aren’t even any maidservants or anything?”
She was still a Consort, wasn’t she?
“Ah… Cultivator, you wouldn’t know…” Zhao Chengyun said helplessly. “For a Consort banished to the cold palace, not having a maidservant is actually a good thing…”
Being sent to the cold palace meant losing power. And with a master who’s lost their power, what kind of kindness could you expect from the servants?
It was already good if they didn’t bully you normally. But if another Consort gave them some benefit and told them to bully you to death, you wouldn’t even have anywhere to complain.
Hearing this, Luo Xing mentally spat again at this damned law of the harem.
‘Ah, pfft!’
‘That’s nothing at all!’
‘The pure love faction is number one in the world!’
After a short while, Zhao Chengzhou brought over two cups of hot water. “Cultivator, Imperial Brother, I have no tea leaves here. Please forgive my humble offering.”
Zhao Chengyun took the cup but didn’t drink. He simply looked at Luo Xing.
Zhao Chengyun: ‘Cultivator, what do you think?’
Luo Xing: …
Instead of directly responding to Zhao Chengyun, he held his teacup and studied Zhao Chengzhou…
His mother was wrongly accused (in Luo Xing’s opinion) and sent to the cold palace. He himself was implicated and confined here for over a decade. He had a reclusive personality and was withdrawn…
No matter how Luo Xing looked at him, he seemed like the type of misanthropic personality who wished the world would burn. But Zhao Chengzhou also gave him a…
Inexplicable sense of trust.
“Third Prince…” Luo Xing finally said to him. “Would you permit me to speak alone with this Eighth Prince?”
A mother framed, a dilapidated cold palace, and a solitary prince…
Analysing this from the perspective of a modern person… no, wait. A trash reader dragged into a trash novel by a trash author. Zhao Chengzhou had to be a key NPC. Even if it wasn’t him, it had to be somehow related to him.
Luo Xing’s request surprised Zhao Chengyun, but he didn’t say much. He looked at Zhao Chengzhou, then turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“Cultivator… I’m not sure…”
“You clearly saw me that day, but just now you pretended you hadn’t…” Luo Xing didn’t wait for Zhao Chengzhou to speak. He pressed the attack. “Why?”
A flicker of panic flashed in Zhao Chengzhou’s eyes. “Cultivator… Chengzhou doesn’t know what the Cultivator means…”
“That day in the palace, you hid in a corner and glanced at me…” Luo Xing continued his interrogation. “My senses are never wrong.”
He’s panicking.
He’s panicking.
There’s something wrong.
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